AT WINDSOR CASTLE.

53

absent look, with the exception of one or two who had the regular fixed John Bull stare, and were evidently awaiting the hour when bread, cheese, and beer, were to be announced.

In the Round Tower, which is 295 feet high, there were confined nearly all the State prisoners whom despotism found it necessary to secure in its dungeons, from Edward III to Charles II, and in the "Audience Chamber," which is hung with Gobelin Tapestry, representing the story of Queen Esther, are paintings of Mary, Queen of Scots, and William, Prince of Orange. This is an "Audience Chamber" only in name, for the Queen very seldom holds levees in this big, desolate-looking room.

The "Waterloo Chamber" is 47 feet in length and 45 in height, and has a gallery of magnificent portraits, by Lawrence, all of whom were, in some fashion, connected either in the closets of diplomacy, or the fields of strife, with the downfall of Napoleon; hence the name of "Waterloo Gallery." Here

are life-size portraits of Wellington, Lord Castlereagh, Humboldt, Alexander I, Count Nesselrode, Capo d'Istria, Prince Schwartzenburg, Archduke Charles, Blucher, Platoff, the Marquis of Anglesea, Francis II, of Austria, Pope Pius VII, and others equally famous.

In the Grand Chamber is a piece of ordnance, taken from Tippo Saib, at Seringapatam, a table made from the wreck of the Royal George, and an elaborately worked shield of silver, inlaid with gold, made by Benvenuto Cellini, which was presented by Francis I, of France, to Henry VIII, of England, at the Field of the Cloth of Gold.

The Throne Room has a fine ceiling, ornamented with the different emblems of the Order of the Garter. Here the Queen sits enthroned on occasions of State, and receives her guests habited in a scarlet velvet mantle, trimmed with miniver. On one occasion, when her Majesty took her seat here, her costume, including the jewels and Crown, was valued at £150,000, a vast sum to be thrown away on such heartless vanities, when it is recollected that myriads of people were dying of want and starvation in her Kingdom at the time.

The Throne is a very fine piece of work, and is covered with heavy hangings of red velvet, and is ornamented with the rose, shamrock and thistle.

By special permission I had the pleasure of beholding the Queen's bed-room, or Private Closet. This is a favor seldom shown to any but foreign noblemen, or Embassadors, but by diligent efforts I had succeeded in getting permission to look at this sacred place.

On the day that I visited Windsor Castle, it luckily happened that very few visitors had called, and as I had a note from a most high personage, with permission to see the private apartments of Her Majesty, I was glad that there was not a crowd to witness the result of my mission. As a point of honor, I find it impossible to mention the name of the great personage who gave me permission to visit the Queen's Chamber, as I fear it might give him trouble, and perhaps deprive him of his lofty position.

THE SECRETS OF ROYALTY.

55

Even the attendant to whom I showed the note was afraid to allow me to enter the apartments, but proper persuasion, backed by a gold sovereign overcame his fears and I was soon standing within the imposing room.

A magnificent bed stood in a corner of the apartment, hung with red velvet and yellow silk. The arms of Great Britain were emblazoned on the heavy red velvet, and the Lions and Unicorns, disported playfully all over the room in their usual attitudes. There were large oil paintings of George IV, King William IV, the Duke of Kent, father of Queen Victoria, the Prince of Wales as a Colonel of the British army, and the Princess Louise, a marriageable daughter of Queen Victoria.

The bed was large and would have held three persons of the size of Queen Victoria. Elegant lounges were arranged around the lofty apartment, covered with damask satin. A faint and delicious odor filled the room, and I seemed to sink in the soft and luxuriant carpets. Mystery, silence, and enchantment prevailed, and I trembled to think that I stood in the presence of Royalty unbidden, and without the permission of the Queen.

There was a sideboard of most intricate carving at one end of the room, with some green Venetian glasses on one of its shelves, but I saw no decanters. The room was filled with a glory and power, reflected in the possessor of three Kingdoms. From without, through the deeply embayed windows, also hung with satin of the color of a morning sky, I could hear the tramp of the sentinels on the battlements, and the hoarse cry of the warders, going their rounds, demanding the countersign of strangers.

I walked to the bed and I found that there was an odor of cologne, otter of roses, and musk, proceeding from the counterpane, which was bordered with purple velvet and gold lace, and had the royal arms embroidered in the centre. The pillow slips had trimmings of Valenciennes lace, half a yard wide, hanging from their open ends. The counterpane was of quilted blue and pink satin, and inside of the velvet canopy that covered the bed, was a lining of blue and white satin, from which hung down heavy folds of Mechlin lace.

A little table of ivory, inlaid with gold and lapis lazuli, stood a few feet from the bed, supported by a tripod elegantly worked in solid silver.

"Some

The flunkey explained to me the use of this table. times Her Majesty takes her breakfast in bed," said he, "when she is indisposed. Her Majesty is werry fond of coffee, and often takes two cups of a morning when she is stopping at Windsor. She is fond of veal cutlets, well done, and sweet breads, for breakfast. Yes, Sir, I have heard that Her Majesty, God bless her, when she had a good appetite, before Prince Albert died, would eat a pound of veal at breakfast. The lady in waiting places her coffee on that small table, and after handing Her Majesty her breakfast in bed, she stands off at a respectful distance, and waits until she is called again to offer Her Majesty a favorite dish. The Duchess of Athole, who is a relation of Lady Mordaunt, is greatly liked by Her Majesty, and when she waits on the Queen, Her Majesty allows her to sit down, but all the other ladies in waiting, excepting Lady Dianna Beauclerk, has to stand up..

"You are the only American ever was allowed to enter this ere room, Sir; but I have heard that one of your countrymen once strayed in here, and was astonished to find that there was no' spittoons,' I think he called them, in the Queen's bed-room. A preshis thing that would be, to have sich things as 'spittoons' in the Queen's bed-room," said the indignant and loyal flunkey.

I informed the man that the story was incredible, and that my countrymen were not such savages as he believed them to be. When I informed him that in the old times in America, any free and unwashed citizen might have inspected the President's bed-room at the White House at Washington, he was greatly astonished, and said:

"My God, what a strange people the Hamericans are! And they allowed them to look at his bed, did they? My heyes, wot a people!"

CHAPTER V.

HIDDEN DEPTHS.

INDING it necessary to have a companion with me who had a perfect knowledge of the English Metropolis, I paid a visit to the headquarters of the police in the Old Jewry, and procured from Inspector Bailey, the Chief of Police, the aid of a detective to accompany me in my nightly

adventures. Shortly after midnight Sergeant Moss and myself passed through Gracechurch into Fenchurch street, by towering warehouses, and along Aldgate into High street, Whitechapel. Until we got well up into Whitechapel we had not met more than three or four persons, and they were principally individuals who had taken more ale or strong liquor than was good for their equilibrium. One person, who was evidently out of his latitude, accosted the detective and demanded of him, in a menacing but rather ludicrous way: "I s'ay ole fel', whish ish Goodman's Feelsh? I wansh to go to Somshseet sthreeths. Goodman's Feelsh, ole boy. Show we waysh and give shixpensh, ole fel?"

"Go along and turn off to your left, and when you get home eat an onion, and it will do you good p'raps," said he, as he tried to dodge the drunken fellow, who seemed well dressed, and had some jewelry on his person.

"Eesh an onionsh. Sir, yer a gentlesmansh-ole boy. Blesh you. Blesh you," and he staggered away into the darkness, rolling like a yawl-boat in the breakers.